It wasn't like a mannequin had warm flesh, soft skin and a will of its own. No, a mannequin had to stand there, in whatever pose it might be placed in...by the dresser. Now there was a nance and a fruit and... well, queer was an out of date word. Gay? He snorted. What did the dresser have to be happy about? AIDS?But the boy stood there staring and the manager wondered if he should go over and say something. That particular mannequin had been dressed today in a silken ecru blouse, with a short,. .. " Tell me. Please? I really want to know. It's OK. It's a fantasy. We all have them. I'm not upset you would spy on me. It turns me on to think you want to see me that much ... " You're playing, masturbating ... That's it. I watch you." Does the thought of that really turn you on?" Yes. ... A lot ..."I kissed him. Again. My tongue wandering into his mouth. His poking at mine. I took his hand, slide it under my top, under my bra.And we kissed some more, his hand on my breast, gently kneading. More

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